Species Traitor: A Science Fiction Dystopian Novel by Kate Mary (universal ebook reader .TXT) 📗

“I guess,” she said, shrugging but acting like she didn’t really care.

I didn’t turn the lecture back on, but I did stare at the professor. I hadn’t appreciated school when I was still going, at least not the way I should have. I’d always known I’d never go on to get a degree—Mom didn’t have the money, and even if she had, I seriously doubted she would have used it on me—and my cousin knew a lot more about history than I did. I’d always wondered what things could have been like if I’d had the chance to continue my education. I’d have a better job, that was for sure.

Of course, I wasn’t alone in my lack of education, because very few people had the chance to go to school the way Ione had. And now it was a waste because she’d never get to use it. Like everything else in this world, it seemed unfair.

The voice of Karl Winters, the face of the Polis News Network, wasn’t audible over the noise from the street, but the second I shut the front door, its throbbing intensity slammed into me. I cringed as I slipped my book bag off my shoulder and dropped it, careful to stay quiet. Mom was no doubt still fired up about Ione’s elopement, and I wasn’t in the mood for a fight.

I was tiptoeing through the house, headed for the sanctuary only my tiny bedroom could provide, when Karl’s words caught my interest. Normally, I wouldn’t have given the loudmouth reporter a second of my time, but when I heard him mention the visitors, I changed course.

The small living room was as dark and disheveled as usual, and Mom was on the couch with her back to me. Beside her on the table sat an almost empty glass, the puddle of condensation beneath it right over the ring that had been there for as long as I could remember. The sight made bitterness rise inside me.

Mom was so focused on the viewing screen as Karl Winters droned on that she didn’t notice me, and it gave me a chance to study her. In the dim light, her skin looked yellower than usual, her face sallow and her cheekbones more prominent than they had been only a month ago. She’d always been bony, but now she looked almost shrunken, and her skin had a waxy, unhealthy appearance to it.

“In just about two weeks, the Veilorians, usually referred to as the visitors, will celebrate twenty-two years on Earth.”

The reporter’s voice boomed through the room, pulling my attention to him, and the image on the screen flicked from his grave expression to footage of the Veilorian ship, freshly arrived on Earth. The door opened slowly while soldiers armed with old school weapons—automatic guns of some kind—stood in a line. The few expressions visible were tense and unsure, and they all had their weapons up and aimed at the ship as they waited to see if the aliens were friend or foe.

Like everyone else, I’d seen the footage hundreds of times throughout my life. In school, on the news, and every year as the anniversary of the landing approached. I’d only been three years old when the visitors arrived, so my memories of that day and the two years following it—during the ill-fated attempt at integration—were mostly vague, and I could barely remember a world where Veilorians hadn’t lived behind a fence.

The image of the Veilorian ship disappeared and was replaced by Karl’s round face. As usual, he wore an expression that was a mixture of concern and indignation, and the lines around his mouth and across his forehead deepened every time he frowned. The makeup artist had gone overboard today, and the creases looked like they’d been filled with the beige powder that was supposed to conceal age, as well as any blemishes on the newscaster’s skin.

“Here with me today,” Karl said as the camera panned out, revealing more of the desk as well as the women flanking him, “are Veronica Waters, who is currently running for mayor, Isobel Rankin, spokesperson for the Human Foundation, and Kaitlin Murray, head of the Veilorian Rights Party.” Karl looked the three women over. “Thank you for joining me, ladies.”

Kaitlin, a thin woman in her fifties with silver hair and kind eyes, nodded. “Thanks for having us.”

Before she had a chance to get anything else out, Isobel jumped in. “Yes, thank you. As always, the Human Foundation feels it is of the utmost importance to stay ahead of any events, no matter how small, when it comes to the visitors. We are—”

“Hold on, now,” Veronica said, lifting her hand to stop the other woman from saying another word. “After more than twenty years, I think it’s high time we stop calling them visitors and accept that the Veilorians are here for good. After all, it’s become blatantly obvious they have no intention of leaving.”

“They can’t leave,” Kaitlin said, the measured calm in her tone barely concealing her annoyance.

On the other side of Karl, Isobel’s mouth dropped open as she looked between the two women, finally focusing on Veronica. “Are you suggesting we just accept these things? That we should let them roam free like they’re humans and not uninvited guests on our planet?”

“Just a minute,” the mayoral candidate raised her hand again. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m saying we need to acknowledge that they’re not going anywhere and—”

“Because they have nowhere to go!” Isobel spit out in frustration. “Their planet was destroyed. They need ours to survive.”

“Exactly,” Veronica said, her expression oddly smug. “Which is why we need to accept the fact that they are here for good and start putting some real regulations on them. More and more humans are intermarrying, yet we have no idea how many halflings are living in the District.”

Kaitlin winced like the word hurt her.

Either not noticing